


Oh Stranger

by teaandchess



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Series Spoilers, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-13
Updated: 2013-04-13
Packaged: 2017-12-08 09:13:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/759652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teaandchess/pseuds/teaandchess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post 8x17.  Angels were above desire but he was sure what he felt settling in the pit of his stomach was not ambivalence. It was more, so much more, and it was almost frightening. Especially where Meg was concerned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Slow

**Part 1: Slow**

_Slow, slow /As slow as you can go/So I can feel all I want to know- Depeche Mode, Slow_ _ (Noan Blior. Enochian literal translation, you are comfort) _

“Cas? Are you sure you’re okay?” Dean asked, sounding both exhausted and angry. The angel sighed and rubbed his hand over his eyes. He’d called Dean to be sure Sam was okay. After seeing the depth of what was wrong with the younger Winchester, he knew it was only a matter of time.  
    “Yes, Dean. I’m fine.” His fingers pressed deeper against the ridge of his nose. “Just tired.”  
    “Look,” Dean sighed and Castiel could almost hear him shaking his head, “whatever is wrong, we can do take care of it together. Just… come back.”  
    “I need to do what I have to do, Dean. Is that all?”  
    “Cas, buddy, wait…!”  
    Hanging up the phone, Castiel bent his head and exhaled sharply.  
    “It doesn’t get any easier.”  
    “Never does,” a low but agreeable voice murmured behind him, an echo bouncing out of the wall and he glanced over his shoulder. “Or you would have let me go completely instead of just sparkin’ it all up again.”  
    “I would have thought you would have been appreciative that I let you stay here.”   
    “You really don’t know me all that well, do you?” He heard bare feet slipping over the tile of the bathroom and finally she came into view.  
    Castiel nearly forgot to breathe.  
    Angels were above desire but he was sure what he felt settling in the pit of his stomach was not ambivalence. It was more, so much more, and it was almost frightening.  
    Meg in her old meatsuit was back to being a brunette after a long time spent in the bathroom, dark hair damp and wavy over one shoulder with her pale skin and large eyes rather spectacular in the lamplight, her eyebrows curved in a high arch. There was still a line of bruising decorating her hairline but she was recovering at lightning speed since she’d been pulled back from the brink.  
    Though by what, he wasn’t sure and she wouldn’t tell. It had been weeks since they’d last seen each other. He doubted she knew why she had shown up at the same bus stop as him with her clothes smelling of demon blood and angelic power. She’d promptly told him what he should be doing about getting her a place to stay and obediently he had done it, still baffled about her.  
    Ignoring his questions, Meg had merely smirked at him while stealing his coat and soaking her old clothes in the sink to get rid of the blood and grime. She’d spent most of her time getting rid of old blood and dyeing her hair, so to see her coming back out looking almost normal caught his attention.  
    It was that knowing look she still wore that spoke volumes and nearly made him blush even after all this time. Leaning against the door-frame wearing only his coat and the hem nearly touching her toes, she smirked at his reaction and reached up to tug on the collar. One thigh slid out between the heavy folds as she took one careful step forward after another until she stood just in front of him.   
    “You’re not going to tell them I’m alive, are you?”  
    “No.” He sighed and looked up at her, smelling the scent of rich soap, demon, and lilac all at once wafting off her body. “Dean would not understand why I am choosing to let you help me instead of him.”  
    “There’s a lot Team Dean doesn’t seem to understand about me. Even Sam isn’t that dim,” she muttered, toying with the belt on the coat. Castiel stared at her stomach, not able to think of a quick answer without admitting that Dean’s biggest problem with Meg was that she was, essentially, like him.   
    More so now that she’d been killed and brought back by something unknown.  
    The poor soul that had been inside of her chosen body he sympathized with but it was gone now, separated from her by that near ‘death’. She was a demon; she gave no thought to that anymore in favour of the body she was claiming as her own. She’d already forgotten her.  
    As easily as sometimes he forgot about Jimmy.  
    Meg sighed and turned away from him to grab the stolen bottle of whiskey she’d left on the counter. Castiel blinked and looked up now that he could watch her closely without being caught.  
    He saw glimpses here and there of smooth skin, rounded breasts, dark hair thatched between her legs, and scar tissue long since gone white with age on her meatsuit. Almost hidden in the depths of the coat, it gave her the illusion of modesty when the coat fell in soft folds around her body. Castiel had to tear his eyes away from the sight of such shadows and softness before he found his voice.   
    “Meg.”  
    “Mm?”  
    “Why did you let Sam escape when you could have instead?”  
    She glanced at him as she poured a new shot of whiskey. “Because, like I said, I am all about screwing over Crowley. Much as the Winchesters are irritating, they are the best bet for that.”  
    “I imagine that Crowley told you their intentions.” He rubbed his hands together and stared at the broken flesh on his knuckles. “If they do succeed then you know what will happen.”  
    “Here’s the thing, Clarence.” She set the bottle down, tossed back the shot with a careless gulp and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “I’m simpler than you are making me out to be. I have a cause and I’m going to see it through. Hell closes… how is that that different than being stuck here, hunted all over Earth? Just a different jail and I’m no more free here than I was there.”   
    The bitterness in her voice made him glance up to see her staring at the wall.   
    “So really, I’m just fighting to fuck over Crowley. Don’t paint it with any nobility.”  
    Sighing, he returned his eyes to the floor until she stepped forward so her tiny feet were just between his own, her toes tapping on the carpet in an absent rhythm. Her hand reached out and she cupped his chin to force him to look at her.  
    When he met her dark gaze, he felt that heady feeling in the pit of his stomach that was so frighteningly foreign he wanted desperately to pull away.  
    But her firm touch kept him grounded and there.  
    He’d not felt so in the moment in a very long time.  
    There was sense of calm starting to override the tension still flaring between them and he watched her warily as she moved so her knees just touched his. Her legs slid to either side of his hips and without knowing what else to do, he put his hands on her hips and held her steady. Meg settled herself neatly in his lap and twined her arms around his neck.  
    “So. We have a motel room and a bit of quiet for a bit. Want to order pizza?” she offered playfully and he tilted his head back.  
    “Why would I need food… oh.”   
    She bit back a laugh at the way his eyes widened a little once he understood the reference.  
    “Gold star for getting it so fast. I think we can bypass the pizza and go straight to furniture moving.”  
    The coat bunched around his hands and he dropped his eyes to the gaping panels that revealed shadows of her breasts. “Perhaps it would not be a good idea. You are still healing.”  
    “Uh uh.” Her finger tilted his chin up and she leaned close so that all he could see was her pert mouth and dark eyes. “We won’t get a moment again. We’ve got years of sexual tension to get through. Last time I offered I got myself killed and really, you have to learn to put up or shut up.”  
    “So you’ve told me before.” Fingers tightening on the belt of the coat, he tugged a little and it unwrapped. “Though I understand the practical nature I haven’t exactly…”  
    “Weren’t you married once?” Meg asked curiously, eyes glinting.  
    He shrugged. “We… were not exactly, she was… I thought…never….” Castiel huffed a bit, flustered. “Don’t ask questions about that.”  
    Meg chuckled and let him pull the folds of the coat apart. Though she was naked beneath, the shadows of the coat kept just enough of her hidden that she could see his interest just because he wasn’t trying so hard not to appear like he was looking.  
    “It won’t be that hard. You’ve got the theory, now just to put it in practice. All you have to do is remember one thing,” Meg muttered. “The nethers quiver and you are already doing better than the majority of regular men.”  
    “That is.” He had to think about that though her crude explanation made him wince. “Comforting.”  
    “I bet.”  
    His fingers slid under the material of the coat and grazed her rib cage. “Are you still in pain?”  
    Meg almost growled. “I’m not a doll, Clarence.”  
    “I won’t hurt you for the sake of… of…” He wiggled his hand in the air. “This.”  
    “I’d be upset if you didn’t,” she said with a grin and he stared at her. “Seriously. Fine. No gaping holes, just some bruising and aches. The ache is getting worse, huh? So you know, hop to it before I change my mind.”  
    His eyes narrowed a little, thoughtfully and yet with intent, and before she could stop him he surged up and kissed her. Meg laughed against his mouth one moment and drowned it in a moan the next when that familiar surge came back. Several years since their last kiss and this one was no less intense and hungry than the last. Lower lip capturing her upper, teeth sinking in just enough to cause a tingle up her spine, and his obvious need only increasing hers. His hands wrapped tight in her hair and kept her head steady as he turned his head this way and that, finding the right angle and pressure. Slipping a hand down between them, Meg grabbed his jacket lapel and steadied herself against that odd sensation of cleanliness starting to swamp her senses.  
    “Burns,” she murmured against his lips and his head pulled back. He opened his mouth to say something and she quickly launched herself back on top of him, tilting his head back and dominating his mouth with hers.  
    He managed to pull back between kisses, hands tightly grasping the edges of the coat. “Is…this… a…bad.. idea?” he managed whenever her lips lifted just enough for him to speak and Meg laughed, pulling back and tossing her hair over her shoulder.  
    “A really bad idea, yeah.” She felt his fingers pulling the coat apart further. “Fun though.” She licked at the corner of his lips. “Sinful. But you don’t really mind do you?”  
    Castiel sighed and grasped her chin between his fingers. He tilted her head this way and that, as if inspecting her for signs of her being too injured. She sighed and rolled her eyes to the ceiling. Why she wanted some angel that sprang up a conscience at the last minute was beyond her. He’d probably take forever just to…  
    Meg gasped as he leaned up and kissed her neck gently, tongue peeking out to slide against her skin. His fingers held her steady and she sighed, leaning back to let him take her weight as he continued to bite and kiss at her neck.  
    “How many porn videos did you watch in the past few years, exactly?” she asked, feeling him chase the way the words moved her throat with his lips.  
    “Enough.” Another kiss, another lick that was just right and made her toes curl. “And I have also been watching the humans for a very long time.” His voice dropped a little and he gently raked her neck with his teeth, her breath hitching out nervously. “Very little would surprise me these days.”  
    “Oh?” Her head almost spun as his hand left her chin to slide under the collar of the coat, grazing over her collarbone. She hadn’t expected the effect his Grace would have on her. It was almost nauseating with how dizzy it made her, a mixture of pain blending with that pleasant burn. “I’m sure I could think of something.”  
    Castiel didn’t answer her, fingers tracking a slow path down the centre of her body until he felt the ridge of scar tissue left from the stab wound, while his mouth still shifted impatiently against her throat. Swallowing down another moan, she grinned at the way he pulled her down tighter against him and, angel or not, his vessel was male enough to enjoy the way she ground her hips against his. His groan was breathy and muffled by her hair when she leaned into him.  
    “Still want to stop?” she asked against his ear before biting the lobe with sharp little teeth. His hands curved around her hips, pushing her back onto her feet. When she gave a perplexed frown, he stood up from the bed and tugged on the knot of his tie to loosen it.   
    Meg watched him appreciatively, flirtatiously arching her eyebrows a little. “Now that’s hot. Shoes and socks next.”  
    “I don’t understand why the idea of me removing a tie gets you excited but I’m glad you approve,” Castiel said dryly even as he toed off his shoes at the same time and she laughed, almost unable to stop because, damn, it felt good to laugh. Even with an angel giving her the evil eye about laughing.  
    “You’ll figure it out,” she answered, shrugging her shoulders so the coat slid apart a bit further. His eyes fixed on the material, as if waiting for it to fall, but he continued to struggle with the tie. Watching him and seeing his frustration, she bit her lower lip and stepped up into him. She ran her hands down his shoulders to the collar of his shirt. “Deep breath, feathers. Not going anywhere yet.”  
    He gave her a condescending look. “I do know what I’m doing.”  
    “Sure you do. And as much as I would love for you to throw me around the room while still dressed, maybe for the first round we go slow and steady,” she wrinkled her nose and tugged on the tie, artfully getting it undone, “don’t you think?”  
    “Slow.” He looked down to watch her unbutton his dress shirt. She didn’t take her eyes from his face and bit down on her lower lip again to stop a grin. He exhaled, mouth just brushing her temple and shaking a little when her fingers brushed his skin. “And steady.”  
    “Wins the race. Anytime you need a breather, old thing, you just let me know,” she teased and he rolled his eyes again.  
    “You’re mocking me.”  
    “My boy gets all the gold stars today,” Meg laughed up at him and before she could move he had his hands on her hips and was jerking her forward, his mouth snatching at hers. She kissed him back, sliding her tongue against his lower lip and coaxing him to open his mouth. He hesitated, clearly startled by the feel of her tongue in his mouth, before he leaned into her and deepened the kiss.   
    Her nails clenched hard into his shirt, almost ripping the material apart, and he felt her legs slip between his, her body lifting into his eagerly. The kiss, once gentle enough for him to calm down, suddenly grew hotter and more intense as she raked her nails up his chest and squeezed herself against his body. For a moment his mind blurred about what they were doing and he reached down to cup her by her buttocks, pulling her tighter into him. The contact of her meatsuit against his was surprising, giving him a relief he hadn’t expected.  
    Meg clearly was rethinking her slow and steady approach as she rocked her pelvis into his.  
    “I thought,” he had to clear his throat as he broke the kiss and she dropped her mouth to bite at his jaw-line, “you said slow and steady.”  
    “Hi. Meg. Demon. I lie.” She lifted up on her tip toes and stared into his eyes. Her own clicked to black and bottomless. “Remember?”  
    “I haven’t forgotten yet,” he answered truthfully as she eased his dress shirt down his arms. The material floated down to the carpet  and they both looked down at it, mutually realizing that they were going to something they hadn’t really ever expected.  
    “Good.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder and simply looked at him. Castiel fidgeted, wondering if she saw something in this next to nudity that he didn’t. Wondered if she saw beneath his vessel and saw something hideous.  
    “Something wrong?”  
    “Mm? No.” She reached out and stroked her fingers down his chest, tracing the curve of lean muscle and scarred flesh left over from a sigil. “Not at all.”  
    “You look like you are planning something,” Castiel muttered, still a bit uneasy with how many liberties he was taking with this.  
    “Mmmhmm.” She shoved him back onto the mattress, the loud ‘ooof’ sound he made causing her to grin and stare down at him. “Makes you nervous?”  
    ”Somewhat.”  
    “Socks off next. Believe me, it is not appealing to see socks and bare skin,” Meg ordered.  
    Castiel cocked his head at her while he reached down and did as she ordered. “For a demon, you do have an odd amount of idiosyncrasies.”  
    “What can I say?” she asked, kicking his shoes out of her way. “I have my preferences. You’re lucky you are on my to-do list.”   
    Reaching out, he pulled on the edge of the coat to watch her face flicker as she stepped closer. It slid slowly off one shoulder, a slide that had him staring at her intently. His arm moved around her waist and he tugged her in to him again, pressing his head between her breasts and leaning against her. The coat still smelled of ozone from his body and smoke from hers, rumpled and a bit coarse against his forehead. Startled by the change, she combed her fingers through his hair and stared at the wall, unused to such gentleness. His arms tightened a little, constricting her breathing before releasing. His breath felt warm against her skin but the way he constantly flexed his fingers against her sides was reminding her that he could very easily kill her.  
    Meg let his hair go and reached up, pushing the coat off of her shoulders with a slow shrug and letting it slip to the floor in a tan pool at her feet. He blinked, staring at her, seeing the demon and the woman meshed as one, and not sure which he preferred. Tilting his head down, he stared at her feet and she watched the odd flux of emotion over his face.  
    “Now’s the time to back down,” Meg offered lowly, though the words cost her some of her pride. Demons didn’t offer, they took, she reminded herself.  
    His fingers wrapped tight around her wrist and with a startled yelp she found herself on the mattress underneath him, his arms braced over her head and his face bent towards hers. Twisting in surprise, she watched his expression turn from hesitant to almost relieved when she finally relaxed.  
    “There’s no going back, Meg. We both know that,” he murmured and there was no hiding the relief this time when he lowered his head and kissed her again.   
    If a human had been watching, unknowing of what they were and what it meant for them to be doing this, they would have claimed it was something soft and loving. But between the two, it was easy for each to feel just how dangerous this was even though the dark and light they exuded was invisible to the eye. Every move he made caused his inner Grace to flare impatiently against her darkness, the chaotic thorns of her coiled around his light like a vine. Even when he broke the kiss the current between them didn’t die.   
    Aware of the burning sensation just touching her skin, she stared up at him as he ran a hand over her side, trailing over whipcord muscle and soft skin.  
    His eyes met hers and then he looked away again, lowering his head to brush his mouth against her collarbone. Meg watched his bent head and shifted her legs apart, loosely draping them over his hips. The idea of control was gone, leaving only a stinging feeling that she had no more control than she used to have.  
    When his lips brushed against her breast, too soft to be more than a light caress and not enough for her to enjoy, she realized he was memorizing her.   
    Angels, Meg thought in mild annoyance. Raised to obey. He would definitely take the slow and steady instructions to heart.  
     Grasping him by his dark hair, she forced his head lower and he took the cue easily, wrapping his lips around a nipple and tugging with his lips. The hands wandering over her sides slid up and down, causing her skin to tighten as he lay across her and continued to suck on her breast gently.  
    “Still burns?” he asked, voice muffled a little this time and she bit back a grin at how absurd he looked with his mouth full of her breast and his eyes staring up at her.  
    “Not now. Try harder,” she ordered. He shifted on top of her, fingers drawing patterns on her stomach before drifting between them. Arching her back a little, she kept his mouth focussed on her breasts before she reached down to guide his hands over her legs and thighs. The callused tips almost tingled against her skin with electricity and heat, her cold skin warming to touch wherever their joined fingers touched.  
    His mouth lifted from her nipple and he leaned up to nip at her throat again, letting her shift under him so she could quickly undo his belt.  
    “Not bad, Castiel,” she muttered. “You’re taking the slow thing to heart.”  
    His face suddenly loomed in her vision, unblinking gaze fixed on hers. “What would the point of fast be?” he countered and Meg smirked.  
    “Believe me, there is a time for fast.” She wriggled a little and his hands slid up her thighs, just brushing against the dampness between them. He narrowed his eyes at her a little, fingers tracing a path nowhere near where she needed them.  
    “Such as?”  
    Meg snorted before speaking, “You really want to discuss quickies right now? You’re hurting my ego here with all this chit chat.”  
    Castiel gave her a look and backed off on his knees a bit, out of the way of the hands that had been sneakily unbuttoning his trousers. Her leg was bent against his shoulder and he nipped at her knee absently, tongue peeking out to taste.  
    “You are still trying to argue with me. So really, you are no different than I am,” he pointed out, his hand sliding up her belly to cup her breast. Smirking, she propped herself up on her elbows and bobbed her leg a little on his shoulder.   
    “Touché, Clarence.”   
    Castiel simply watched her as he finished undoing his belt and turned around on the bed to put his feet on the floor. Meg watched his bent head as he stood up from the bed, suddenly looking remarkably fragile inside of his vessel. She knew the creature inside was anything but tiny and fragile, not some weakling she was about to lead around by the nose.  
    The fact that he was stronger than that was likely why she was still here, content just to watch him finish undressing. He hesitated a little before bending over to shove his clothes to his feet. Curling her toes into the flannel sheet, she tipped her head on the side and gave him an appreciative grin when he kicked his trousers and boxers to the side.  
    “Nice.” His surprised look had her nodding at him. “Pick your vessel because he would make the girls happy?”  
    “I’m not exactly sure…” He followed her pointed glance down and sighed, getting her joke. “I see. But not exactly. A vessel is a vessel to angels. Nothing more than a means to an end though we love them for their sacrifice and faith.”  
    He said it an almost stony way, like he was reciting something he found distasteful. Arching an eyebrow, Meg rolled onto her hands and knees and knelt on the bed in front of him. When she reached out to take his hand, she felt him jerk towards her and she grinned, ignoring the impatient lurch in his body.  
    “Really? Then this?” she paused as she led his fingers down her body until they slid between her legs. His eyes remained on her face as she shuddered at the hot contact. “Doesn’t really mean that much, does it?”  
    He didn’t answer, his fingers slipping through the wet folds gently up and then down, an absentminded stroking that had her head bowing a little. It took more effort than she’d expected not to come then and there. Castiel leaned in and pressed a kiss against her temple, his other hand curving over her breast to play with her nipple.  
    “What I meant was that even if we were in different vessels, I think I would still want you.”  
    Her eyes opened quickly and she almost recoiled at the tension in his expression, but his fingers slid into her and curled forwards as if to keep her there. Groaning instead, Meg pushed up off her knees and moved so her arms were around his shoulders and her stomach pressed tight against his. She wasn’t sure if he was waiting for a response to that piece of honesty and she really didn’t want to try to think of a quip.  
    So she kissed him, biting at his lower lip and almost forcing his mouth to open. He made a startled sound, erection pressing impatiently against her stomach between them, and moved his tongue against hers, fingers sliding out of her to quickly grasp fistfuls of her hair. His grip tightened when she deepened the kiss until it was impossible to breathe without tasting more of her darkness, her own mouth burning with dark and light all at once. Her nails dug harder into his back and with a moan, he leaned into her.  
    Meg grinned against the deep kiss and twisted herself on her knees, using the strength she hid in her small frame to bring him down onto the bed underneath her. Startled, Castiel let her pin his hands beside his head and continued the kiss without fighting her. His breath came out in a moan when she  sat up and broke the kiss to nuzzle his throat instead, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like ‘time to get your wings’.   
    Meg slid her legs on either side of his hips and their eyes met as she slowly lowered herself against his stomach. Letting go of his wrists, she braced her hands on his stomach and tilted her head a little, breasts almost covered by her arms. Castiel blinked and watched her, not sure what to do now that he was nearly there.  For a moment, she almost looked like she was about to stop and the ache in his body screamed at him to move.  
    “What are you feeling?” Meg asked. “You look ready to smite me already.”  
    His hands grasped her by her hips as he sat up and adjusted his weight on the bed. Meg shifted impatiently, rocking against him but not moving to help him, and he squeezed tight to stop her.  
    “Ache. I didn’t expect that.”  
    “So that is…” She hissed as he lifted her by her buttocks and nudged the head of his shaft inside her. Her head rolled on her shoulders a little. She’d forgotten what this felt like. Years of running had almost made her forget that pleasure. “Good?”  
    It was on the tip of his tongue to answer her but he lost the words, resting his head against her neck and clutching her hair as he let her slide down, wet heat clasping his cock so tight he almost lost it. The ache that had been burning blossomed to a stranglehold on his senses, every nerve-ending in both vessel and trueform suddenly fixated on the movement of her body. Meg gasped against his forehead, her cooler skin almost a relief against his, and he shivered as he pressed tighter into her. Everything suddenly felt so wet and slick around him, stifling heat surrounding him, and Meg’s arms wound tighter around his neck to hold him steady.  
    “Good?” she asked again, her voice a little breathy and almost toneless.  
    He nodded against her neck and felt her fingers flex as they dug into his hair. Mouthing at her skin again, he rolled his hips up at her and felt her meet the thrust slowly, letting him move her body to how he wanted her. The liquid motion of her body was slower than he expected, than he had wanted, and he had to shut his eyes.  
    “You’re thinking.” Meg nipped at the tip of his ear. “Deep breaths, you aren’t doin’ bad.”  
    Unable to come up with a clever response, he simply wrapped his arms around her waist and rocked her hips for her, meeting the thrusts and murmuring against her neck. The Enochian words were endearments he’d have never thought to use before, not with a human, angel or demon, but they passed his lips unguarded. To Meg they sounded like nothing more than impatient mutterings and with a smile she leaned down and kissed him.      
    Groaning into the kiss, Castiel tightened his arms around her and turned over on the bed, sliding against her slick skin. For a moment he forgot everything but the demon he was lying inside of, his vessel urging him to finish soon before that pleasure he could just feel inched away. Meg moaned underneath him, an almost constant litany of soft instructions and curse words to urge him to move harder and yet slower. His thrusts almost pushed her back and forth on the bed and Meg slid her hands up his chest and clenched tight onto his shoulders.  
    “That’s my boy,” she murmured, opening her eyes to watch him.  
    Castiel stared down at her as he continued to move, letting her arching hips show him what she needed and leaning into her so that he slid deeper inside of her. Meg hissed when he lifted her hips with his hands and squeezed the bones there a bit too tight. Wanting to feel more, he lowered his lips to her neck and licked at her skin, tasting salt and soap. His tongue laved over her breasts, his breathing so fast against her that her nipples hardened to pained pleasure from the coolness of it.  
    “Cas,” she whispered and his head lifted to kiss her again. She broke the contact before he could deepen it, clutching him around the shoulders and pulling him further on top her. Her cry was loud in his ear and he shifted his hips deeper into hers, thrusting harder as he felt that throb of tension go through him as her inner muscles squeezed him tight.  
    His eyes shut against his own will and he clutched the bed-sheets, fingers tearing small holes in them. His truevoice slipped through his own control, the glass mirror on the wall behind the bed shattering. Meg cried out again, sinking her teeth into his shoulder to stop the sound. He buried his face against her neck and jerked his hips hard up into hers, nearly lifting her off the bed with the force of it, and her slim legs grasped him tighter around the waist as he finally came.  
    He almost stopped himself when he realized that the sensation wasn’t going to last and he squeezed his eyes shut to try to stop himself.  
    “Just let it go, Clarence,” she said as she continued to move her hips with his, wet heat holding him tight and not letting him go. His head dropped further and he put his weight on his hands as his body gave one last push before he collapsed onto her sweat-soaked body.  
    Meg almost whimpered in relief at his weight, her fingers releasing their tight hold. His shoulders were marred by scratches and crescent shaped marks, and he felt the bruises on her body where he’d held her down. Her skin was almost glowing and with a sense of odd wonder he touched her with reverence.  
    The demon and the woman suddenly did make too much sense for both himself and his vessel to want when they both looked this beautiful.   
    “Meg.” His voice dropped and he whispered her true name, a name she’d not been called in so long. Hand still drifting down her stomach, he pressed a kiss against her bruised shoulder where he’d sucked a red mark to the surface. He took a shaky breath. “Noan blior.”  
    Meg shivered at the words, not understanding them but not caring that for some reason they sounded far more intimate than she’d expected. Her entire body nearly hummed with relief and sated pleasure, and Castiel leaned up on his elbows to look down at her. Her eyes dragged open and they stared at each other, Castiel looking more relaxed while she seemed almost frightened. Reading the tension in her body, feeling it still tight around his, he leaned down and pressed a kiss against her mouth. She returned it, almost shyly at first before matching the intensity of the kiss that nearly had him ready to start again.  
    Her hands pushed on his chest a little and she looked up at him when he pulled up.  
    “You definitely did learn something,” she said, having to clear her throat when her voice cracked.   
    Castiel nodded, that faint crackle of power still just vibrating through him.  
    “Does it burn?” he asked when he saw the way she shifted underneath him. As if she wanted to move into and yet away from him.  
    “Yeah.” She reached up and pushed his sweated hair off his forehead. “Like I said, sometimes it is good to burn.”  
    “Yes.” His eyes closed halfway to watch her as she rocked her hips a little, adjusting him inside of her. He pressed his hand over her heart and leaned against her, resting his weight gratefully in her embrace. Her arms moved back around him and she relaxed again. “Now I know what you mean.”

**~~~~**

__


	2. Fast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel wakes to find Meg gone but learns what she meant by there being a time and place for fast.

**Part 2: Fast**

_Been fighting with my sheets/Nearly crying in my sleep/Yes, I’m battling that well taught gripe/The most frustrating type/You should have racing stripes - Arctic Monkeys, Dangerous Animals_

~

  _“Unclean.”_  
 _“Hi, I’m Meg, I’m a demon.”_  
 _“Why are you so sweet on me, Clarence?”_  
 _“I don’t know.”_  
    Angels didn’t dream. They remembered. Too much and too clearly.  
    He had fallen asleep sometime during the evening, a sort of deep doze that had he’d never expected. Angels did not sleep, he had pointed out to Meg but the demon had ordered him to rest, saying that the way he was looking he would just pass out. She had pushed him down and told him not to think about flicking out on her.   
   _“I don’t need sleep though.”_  
 _“So is this your clever way of saying you are up for another round?” Meg had demanded and he had known instantly what she meant._  
 _“That is not what I meant.”_  
 _“Well, until you are ready to put up instead of shutting up, then get some rest.”_  
    Her body had finally warmed up to match his own heat, her tinier frame just brushing against his own on the bed, and it had been nice to just relax. He could trust her she said, and eventually he had fallen asleep when she lulled him to boredom by reading one of her ridiculous gossip rags that she seemed to be addicted to.  She refused to let him curl around her on the bed, content instead to just sit beside him and mutter about celebrity hairstyles and who had made who pregnant.  
    He didn’t often get to rest and not worry about having a blade being thrown into his back. The novelty wasn’t lost on him.  
    The fact that Castiel was trusting a demon not to kill him spoke worlds about how differently he viewed Meg now.  
    But it was when he woke, alone and strangely bereft, and rolled back over to find out that the spot next to him was empty and cold, he’d lost all slight hints of drowsiness. ** _Where had she gone?_**  
    “Meg?” Castiel called out, rubbing his hands over his face. The bed sheet crinkled around his waist as he sat up and stared around the tiny motel room.  
    “Meg?”  
    Nothing but silence.  
 _What were you expecting? She lives within her own rules. Sex changes nothing._  
 _**You are such a girl,**_ he could almost swear he heard Dean berating him.  
     She wouldn’t have left. He’d asked her to stay. She needed his protection.  
    Didn’t she say she needed his protection once?  
    Absurd as it was, he was suddenly angry and worried all at once. What if he had done something when he slept, to banish her permanently? Or if Crowley had found a way to slip through all those careful wards he’d enchanted in the room? What if the angels had found them and decided to kill her as punishment to him for wanting something he should never have?  
    A pile of what-ifs slowly built in his mind until he was breathing fast and hard, all rationality leaving him in mindless fear and anger.  
    The humanity of those emotions escaped him.  
    Castiel rolled off the bed, mindless of his nudity, and stalked over to the bathroom to check.  
    Nothing. Even her clothes were no longer in the sink, leftover bloodstains and black gunk no longer staining the ceramic, towels hung in pristine order. For a second, he slipped into a shocked realization that he had likely dreamed the past few hours.  
    “No. That can’t be.” He was naked though and he never had been naked willingly before. His clothes were in piles on the floor, even his beloved overcoat lying in a discarded heap, and that wasn’t normal.  
    But for her to be gone, so easily in her condition too, that meant that she had never been more than a figment of his overactive imagination.  
    He’d created something to bring himself comfort. Like Gabriel, like any angel had who had needed time away from the Wars of Heaven, he’d created his own reality.  
    Staring at himself in the mirror, eyes blurred to what he was actually looking like and only seeing a ruined angel, he wondered if he had lost his mind.  
    The door opened and shut, and he whirled around to face it.  
    His Grace nearly exploded out of his fragile vessel just out of pure, unadulterated relief.  
    “You know, finding an all-night pizza place is not easy. I mean, I had to resist ganking the SOB who was going to close the store and resorted to showing him some cleavage to get free stuff.” Meg was muttering to herself, balancing a few boxes in her hands. Her ripped clothing was nearly indecent, sliced over her breasts and stomach, but she looked clean, her dark hair still wet from rain.  
    Castiel could only stare at her in wonder.  
    He wasn’t going mad. She was here.  
    She had come back.  
    “This is just so weird. I mean, an angel and demon getting pizza together is like a step up from a priest and a rabbi walk into a bar.” Meg set the boxes down on the kitchenette table, still not facing him. “One of us is getting soft in our old age and I think it’s me.”  
    She turned around and stared at the empty bed. “Must be me because you are not where I left you.”  
    Her head whipped around until she saw him out of the corner of her eye but once she realized he was there she barely reacted.  
    Except for that appreciative grin and a quick once-over she gave him, one eyebrow lifting. “My my. I never pegged you for an early riser, if you get my meaning.”  
    Castiel ignored the jibe, ignored the almost lustful way she was looking at him, even ignored the embarrassment he should have felt.  
    Meg stared at him as she flipped the lock on the door. Something about the look on his face let her know something was wrong. “Clarence? You okay in there? Having a flashback or something? Not about to smite me, are you?”  
    He was on her before she could move further into the room, both hands grasping her by her hair and forcing her head back. Meg choked on her next words as he kissed her, hands raking through her damp hair and pulling a little to bring her closer. Teeth and tongue meshed against hers angrily, inflicting pain and pleasure all at once. Her eyes stared into his open ones, seeing his anger and fear and almost revelling in it when all that emotion was fixed on her. His tongue stabbed into her mouth, sending a spark of utter power into her body, and she rocked up on her toes to try to kiss him deeper, finally closing her eyes.  
    Moaning into the kiss, Castiel pulled her jacket down her shoulders and threw it over the TV before starting on the button and zipper of her jeans. Her skin felt like ice from the rain and he skated his hands fast over her hips to try to bring some warmth back to her. Meg gasped in surprise when he bit her lower lip so hard she tasted blood and then forced her chin up to take more of his mouth.  
    Giving no thought to the anger and fear he had felt, he walked her backwards and let go of her hair to grasp her by her thighs before lifting her up and setting her back down on the table with a bang. Meg muttered against his lips as hot pizza squished underneath her weight, splattering through the flimsy cardboard to spatter on her legs. Castiel growled something unintelligible, fingers almost tearing her jeans down her legs and wrenching her boots off when they were in his way.   
    Startled and excited by the sheer power rolling off him, Meg squirmed to help him. His lips left hers long enough so that she could get her shirt over her head next, her still cold and damp skin shimmering in the dim light of the room. He bent down to kiss her once more, a quick peck of tongue and teeth against her softness, and then dropped his head to bite at the top of her breasts, sucking a dark red mark over her heart that made her groan. He did it again just to hear her moan, fingers pinching her nipples hard to try to get her to squirm.  
    “You were gone,” he whispered against her skin. Not understanding, Meg wriggled happily under him.  
    “Getting bossy with me, baby?” She grabbed him by the back of his head and pulled on his hair next, her tongue flicking out against his lower lip when his head lifted. Castiel groaned and pushed against her slight body, sending the table a few inches across the tile. Meg chuckled and bit at his lip. “I like it.”  
    He didn’t answer; he simply put his hand on her chest and forced her back down hard, her breath forced out her as her head banged against the already cracked wood surface. More sauce leaked out of the box, painting her skin red and she groaned as he lowered his head and licked one of the still hot splatters off her breast. His shoulders flexed as he grasped the edge of the table over her head with one hand, the other going to grab her by her thigh. Pulling her legs apart, he gave a careless drift of fingers over her sudden wetness, feeling her teeth sink into his shoulder when he brushed a sensitive spot.  
    Might not know all her anatomy perfectly yet, Meg thought, but he was so rough and forceful that she bucked her hips up to the touch to get more.  
    “Don’t stop,” she moaned against his shoulder and he pushed his shaft into her without waiting, her scream muffled by his shoulder and overlapping the groan he gave.   
    This was familiar. He hadn’t dreamt this. This was hot, sinful… **right**.  
    The table skittered, shaking on its legs over the tile floor as he thrust into her. Her wet heat and his strange feelings of desperation pulled at him and he shut his eyes, focussing on feeling as much as he could. Meg’s fingernails dug into the small of his back, her legs hooking around his hips to hold him tight into her. It didn’t stop how hard his thrusts were and her moans only encouraged that rough rhythm.  
    Castiel didn’t speak, couldn’t speak from the forceful way he was moving, and he kissed her again, drawing her tongue into his mouth and slipping his own against her teeth. Remembering the way she’d moaned at his touch, he continued to brush his fingers over her clit, rubbing hard enough that she shifted to try to feel more of the rasp of his fingers. Though it caused a painful ache in her body, he was making it burn hotter with each hard thrust that sent the table across the tile dangerously fast.  
    Meg broke the kiss long enough to look at his stormy eyes, seeing the violence just inside of him, and she smiled dizzily. The table moved harder under them, shaking unsteadily, and she slapped a hand down on the surface when it became too much to keep control her own meatsuit.   
    “Damn it, Cas!”  
    He sank down deeper into her, her legs drawing him in closer as he kissed her. Lower lip caught upper lip again and he sucked on her to try to keep her from breaking the kiss in order to scream. Meg bit into his tongue, tasted blood, and winced when the clean light burned through her body with a flicker she’d not expected. The angel moving on top of her groaned when he felt her actually start to shake under him.  
    When she started to fight the orgasm she could feeling humming through her borrowed body, he deepened the kiss and swallowed the loud scream she gave when he gave her clit a brutal pinch. The pleasurable pain sent her over, her hands dropping to grab his buttocks and pull him in deeper, and the tight clench of her body around his made his own orgasm follow just behind hers. Castiel was strangely quiet against her, not even crying out even though he rolled his hips continuously while the relief of that pleasure spread through his body.   
    The only sign that he’d come at all was the way he shivered and panted for breath he hadn’t thought he would need.  
    Breaking the furious kiss, Castiel relaxed into her body and sighed when she finally stopped digging her nails into his back.  
    Meg managed to let go of him completely, still tasting blood in her mouth from them both and savouring the taste. Her body actually hurt, in a mixture of pleasurable agony, but there was no denying she had liked every moment of his anger and force. Reaching up, she pushed her now drenched hair of her eyes.  
    “So.” She cleared her throat to try to erase the hoarse sound. “Not that I mind… but what was that for?”  
    Castiel didn’t lift his head from her shoulder, his chest still heaving for breath.  
    “Come on, treetopper, give me a hint.” Meg shuddered as an aftershock warmed her again and she tightened her legs around his hips to try to hold onto the sensation. “Something? Anything?”   
    “I thought you were gone.”  
    Confused, she looked down and watched as he lifted himself up off of her, sliding free from her now slippery body. Still naked, still ruffled, the intense desire he’d looked at her had faded a little though it showed her nothing. Castiel stared down into her dark eyes and sighed as he slid out of her and stepped back to give her room.  
    “I know, it is absurd.”  
    “I went to get pizza. I figured if we were doing firsts, you should at least try it once.”  
    “I know that now.” He shrugged, staring at the wobbly table and the mess they’d made. “Like I said, it was absurd….”  
    “Ah!” Meg held up her hand and groaned when she arched her back a little. “That was anything but absurd.” She sat up, legs dangling over the edge of the table. “First time I’ve ever done it on a table covered in pizza sauce though.”  
    The demon lifted her hand gingerly and showed him how the red goop now almost dripping off her. But the only thing Castiel really saw were the marks and bruises he’d left on her pale skin and he realized that he could have actually hurt her.   
    “I’m… .”  
    “Don’t say you’re sorry. I didn’t say I cared. Though I might have to salvage what’s left so you can at least try it.”  
    She slid off the table, an odd sight with red sauce and the bruises he’d left on her skin, and Castiel stepped back to give her room. But before he could move far she grabbed him by his wrist and pulled him back into her. Grinning wickedly, Meg leaned up and nipped at his lower lip seductively while trying for another kiss.  
    “You did well enough for round one and two that I’ve got no reason to leave, Castiel, especially since you surprised me. Take a breather. I’ll be here a while.”  
    “You will?” He blinked in surprise, not expecting that. He’d been brutal with her, to the point that he hadn’t cared if he’d hurt her in his need to feel that she was here with him and that he wasn’t changing reality to ease his own pain. He could still see the bruises from his hands and the marks from his teeth, see the tangles in her hair and smell the way sweat and sex had changed her natural scent.  
    “Mmhmm.” She tilted her head a little and kissed him teasingly, a mere flitting of lips that made him lean into her before she stepped away. “Trust me. I don’t have cause to leave when you can do that to me.”  
    He stared, baffled by the renewed desire in her eyes, but Meg slipped around him to go wash the smell of pizza off her body. Castiel swallowed nervously, aware of how he’d let his emotions, his fear, his need swamp him.  
    There was a crash as the table collapsed finally. No longer able to stay upright after the force of that brutal moment, it made a loud bang when its legs gave out in a heap of broken wood and metal. It made even more of a mess than it had before.  
    For some reason, Castiel felt a little bit of pride at the sight of such ruin when the memory of how he’d done it was still fresh. That strange sense of pride was almost selfish but he liked it when he realized he’d been able to startle Meg a little. He was even more aware that he’d somehow managed to feel more in the past few hours than he had in the past year.  
~~~  
  



	3. Clean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A storm rages outside but the reason why is indoors and uncaring for the chaos

**Part 3: Clean**

_Liquid diamonds roll down my skin/And the wind whispers around me/_ _Dark place/A sweetness that I’ve never known/ Hits me like a storm in the ocean/_ _Dark face/Dark love - Johnny Hollow “Dark Thing”_

  
    In the slow drag of three hours, the thunderstorm that had been brewing over the city broke with a fury that rivalled a coastal hurricane. The sky was silver and black, carved in two by lightning that turned it bright blue when the heat grew too much, leaving a heavy smell of smoke and ozone. It hadn’t stopped raining,  a drizzle now, and only the wind disturbed the trees overhead, whipping them back and forth until branches began to break off. The air was freezing cold but whenever the lightning cracked across the sky for a split second it would be hot.  
    The motel residents all came out to watch the strange storm, since the fluctuating power-grid that made lights flare on and off was impossible to ignore. Gathered under the car park overhang, they muttered back and forth, wondering if they should go to the local storm shelter in case. The motel manager, half-asleep and annoyed, told them all to get back to their rooms before he started charging them double for watching a light show. They were enough of an insurance risk staying near the electrical units like that.  
    At least, he figured, the couple in Room 22-20 were sound asleep and not causing him trouble.  
~~  
    The lights in the room were off; after the light bulbs had burst there was no point in lighting candles or emergency lamps. Broken furniture lay half-hazard over the kitchenette and bed-space, pizza boxes with barely touched food thrown across the room while bottles of beer, still full, lay leaking on the carpet. The room was destroyed by the storm inside of the room, a sight of chaos that rivalled the growing storm outside.  
    The shifting bodies on the bed were highlighted in pale blues and neon reds from the signs outside, the partially drawn curtains letting in some of the lightning flashes to the otherwise total darkness of the motel room. Anyone passing would have seen nothing more than a little bit of movement. No one who actually looked would have realized that the cause of the storm was in the one motel room not to be disturbed.  
    When the headboard cracked once on the wall it was against, it caused the thunder outside to rumble as well.   
    Moaning, Meg stretched her arms out over her head, feeling the scratchy material of the bed sheets slip beneath her damp body. Her body ached, burned and yearned all at once, a myriad of sensation that made her wet and hungry for more. She felt that stealthy pair of hands that had been torturing her slip along her ribcage and then down again to settle on the curve of her hips, pulling her buttocks up. The fingers slid against her stomach, dipping into her navel and then caressing the very tips of her breasts.  
    Castiel was breathing as hard as she was, his mouth placing a biting kiss after biting kiss against her as he made his way from her feet to the small of her back. He paused and licked a gentle path along her inner thigh, never once stopping long enough for her to relax. She felt his tongue snake out, taste her in quick laps, and then he pulled her hips back a few more inches.  
    She could have sworn he muttered “Mine” against the small of her back before biting that tender spot hard enough that she groaned and pushed herself up to his teeth.  
    His fingers tracked tiny trails of electricity up her skin, sending each nerve ending on fire and then sparking more heat and tension. The lips that had been driving her mad drifted over the curve of her spine, his tongue sliding against the indenture and his teeth raking gently over skin already tender from an hour of this play.  
    Meg would normally have been frustrated by this sort of slow, torturous foreplay but something about Castiel’s eagerness to play let it slide by and for once she allowed herself the luxury of feeling a lover.  
    “Cas,” she murmured, tossing her hair over her shoulder and looking at him from the corner of her eye. He moved up the bed behind her, teeth marking her shoulder and sinking in so deep she nearly cried out from pain instead of pleasure. The mark he left burned until her power finally flared over and healed it. Blue eyes caught hers and he rocked forward, hips cradling her buttocks, so that he could breathe in her ear.  
    “Meg.” The hands on her body cupped her breasts and began to toy with her nipples gently. “I thought you didn’t want to talk. We could stop.”  
    “No.” She cursed herself for that keening moan. But once Castiel had figured out his sexual confidence there really had been no chance to say anything but yes. Unused as she was to someone being more forward than she was, Meg had actually enjoyed the way he’d flipped her on her stomach and set about learning her body with hands and mouth.  
    The angel lipped at her earlobe before nuzzling the crook of her neck. “I think if we had done this in the hospital.”  
    One hand slid down her stomach and dipped between her legs, just resting there though she rocked her hips forward to try to get him to touch her.  
    “My perspective about leaving would have been different.”  
    “Ugh.” Meg groaned and pushed up on her elbows. “Stuff the sweetness there, angel-face. You’re going to make me sick to my stomach.”  
    But before she could turn, his other hand was on her back, forcing her face down on the bed. His fingers slid over the dip and rise of her buttocks, delving between before coming back up to circle the nape of her neck. Meg had never felt overpowered before by a simple touch and almost passively she arched her back into the touch.   
    The lips toying with her earlobe left and she saw Castiel’s arm reach over her head to grab the headboard. Her own hand followed, resting just underneath his. But he didn’t move any further. Just kept circling her nape with one hand and tapping a rhythm against the wood with the other.  
     She had to gulp for breath. “This a new torture tactic for angels?”  
    “It depends.” Meg felt him smile and tilted her head towards him. He actually looked amused by her pushing her hips back against him. Castiel dropped his head and nipped at her shoulder again, laving the new mark with his tongue. He stared at the display of muscle and softness before him and tipped his head on the side while his eyes roamed over her back. “Is it working?”  
    Meg was nearly one hundred percent certain that if she stabbed him with an angel sword no jury in Heaven or Hell would convict her of murder. Getting on her hands and knees, she pushed him back using her body and had to grip the headboard to keep from face-planting in the wood-frame.  
     “Look, can you just get on with it? I mean, I know angels are slow learners when it comes to sin but…” Her snappy comeback was lost as he pulled her hips up and quickly thrust into her, quivering muscles holding him tight. He moaned against her back and then recovered in time to move a little deeper. “B-better.”  
    “I’m glad you approve.” Castiel sounded like he was laughing, but Meg could barely focus as she dug her nails into the wood and dragged them down. He wasn’t moving, simply content to hold her back on his lap as he ran his lips up and down the back of her neck, breathing out quiet words in Enochian she didn’t understand.  
    “Just a little to the…” She exhaled as without instruction he shifted to the left and suddenly the pressure was where she needed it. “Perfect.”  
    “You think very loud, you know,” he mentioned and Meg heard a darkness in his voice that hadn’t been there in the hours that they’d been together. His fingers clenched her hip and he pulled her back higher onto him. Letting go of the headboard, Meg cupped her own breast and squeezed, rocking back onto his lap and letting her head fall against his shoulder. Castiel’s hands slid down her front, soothing away pain and creating pleasure as he moved her body slowly.   
    “Does it still burn?” he asked against her ear. On edge from the hour spent being a prop for him, Meg only nodded and opened her now-black eyes to stare blindly at the headboard.  
    “It’s not a bad burn,” she managed. “I told you that before.”     
     “Good.” A finger slid between her wet folds and rubbed slowly against her clit, letting her buck up to try to increase the pressure. “What is the difference?”  
    Meg had learned in a very short time that as much as she was a talker through sex, Castiel liked to mutter and think things through when it came to her.   
    “Have you ever…” she ground her hips back at him and felt his arms come up around her waist to hold her close to his chest, “put your hand over flames and dipped it just low enough that you can feel your skin start to hurt?”  
    He didn’t answer, just stared down past her undulating hips to where he was buried inside of her and wondered. “That is what is like,” Meg moaned, fingers tightening against her breast. Her head bowed and unexpectedly she cried out, other hand grasping the headboard in front of them and nearly cracking it in two. Letting her slump forward, her inner muscles quivering but still holding him tight inside of her, Castiel ran his hand down the demon’s back and waited.  
     Like any soldier, she recovered and recovered fast.  
    He was on his back before he was really sure how she did it. His head slammed into the bed-frame, hands grabbing hold of her hips to keep her steady as she firmly planted herself on top of him. The quick sensation of being pushed into wetness and heat was enough to keep him from fighting. Meg smirked once before leaning down and kissing him deeply, dragging her tongue against the soft insides of his mouth to lure him into a more intimate kiss. Knowing what she wanted, he rolled his hips up at her and waited for her to move.  
    Meg pulled back a little and stared at him, panting for breath. He wasn’t sure why but something about the sight of her borrowed body shimmering in sweat, blended with the smoky soul of a demon, was somehow far more tragic yet beautiful than it should have been.   
    Moments passed before she moved again, fingers trailing slowly over his chest and down to the ridge of his hip bones. The stuttering movement she did had him grasping hold of her sides, trying to keep her rhythm steady. Their eyes met and she looked away at the open look on his own face.  
    “Storm’s passing,” he muttered, not sure what exactly was supposed to be said.   
    “Yeah.” She looked over the blinds and leaned back a bit.   
    Castiel watched, fascinated as her true face seemed to become a bit brighter, losing its cracked edges for just  a few moments. The flashes of light through the blinds made her appearance harden a little, and he ran his hand up her sides to cup her breasts. Meg turned her head and looked at him, her eyes black and demonic, but she pushed into his hands.   
    He sat up quickly when he felt her tightening around him again, her knees digging into his sides. Meg bent her head and kissed him again, tasting herself on his tongue. The grip on her breasts tightened when she moved in harder thrusts, teeth sinking into his lower lip and he responded with his own bite, drawing his legs up so she was cradled between his chest and legs.  
    With a loud crack, the lightning struck the transformer outside and destroyed it in  a shower of sparks and flames.  
    Breaking the kiss, Meg laughed at the sound of fire engines in the distance and Castiel stared at her mouth. Before she could think of anything clever to say, his hand gripped her by her hair and yanked her down, mouth almost punishing hers for stopping. His feet planted in the bed, he pushed his hips up impatiently against hers and forced her to keep moving. Meg moaned and wrapped herself tighter around his body, legs hooking around his back so he drove deeper and deeper into her with each thrust.   
    Her back arched, bowing again, and he leaned his head against her breasts, panting for breath as she rocked her hips to bring him closer and closer to the edge. Meg almost hiccuped for breath, impatiently driving down and then up when he held off.   
    “Meg, I…” Castiel felt her nails dig into his shoulders to hold on and he tried to stop to regain his control.  
    “Don’t you dare stop,” she hissed against his ear. She moaned as he reached between them to brush her clit with his thumb. “Just let it burn like I told you.”  
    His hand hooked under her leg, drawing her forward into him and he cried out against her neck when he felt her tighten up around him again. Each shaking clasp against his shaft almost burned with heat and wetness, and he squeezed her thigh hard. Meg continued to shift herself though her stomach shook with the effort to stay moving for him, and he ran his teeth over the top of her breasts to stop himself from saying something they both would regret. He gave one last hard thrust into her as he came, bone-jarring ache suddenly overwhelmed with euphoria and burning pleasure.  
    Slumping forward, he gripped her closer and felt each tiny roll of her hips as she stuttered through another orgasm, her low moans vibrating in his ear. Meg wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her chest heaving against his as she struggled to come down fast. With another low cry, she rested her forehead against his neck and clenched her thighs tight around his waist.  
    The lightning outside still crashed around the building with the same intensity but the only sound in the motel room was of heavy breathing and slick skin sliding against slick skin.  
    Castiel leaned his head back finally as the sweat cooled on his back, sending a chill up his spine. Meg’s head still leaned on his shoulder and he nuzzled his lips against her jaw-line to get her to lift her head a little. There was a sated look on her face, for a moment no tension or guarded emotion being hidden there, and he stared into her now brown eyes. Meg stared back at him, fingers flexing against his shoulders now and again.  
    Silence dragged through the room, Castiel waiting for some divine sign to know what to say to the demon in his arms. Meg ran her tongue over her lips thoughtfully.  
    Unused to being silent for long, she opened her mouth for a witty quip.  
    “Well, Clarence, that was…” She stopped herself at the look on his face and suddenly she felt hunted and exposed. As if he was seeing something under her stolen features that she fought hard to hide around him.  
    “It was.” Reaching up, Castiel ran his thumb over her lower lip before he leaned forward to kiss her. Twisting her fingers in his hair, Meg returned the contact with the same desperate hunger to be touched that he was showing her. Her body tightened in renewed excitement and she felt his own start to respond.  
    _It might never be enough,_ she thought in a haze as he slowly twisted on the bed and pressed her back into the soaked sheets. Then again, how long could a storm last?   
    “That depends on you,” Castiel muttered against her mouth while his fingers began to torment her. Meg grinned and locked her legs around his hips.  
    Like he had before, Castiel felt actually content in the chaos he was causing thanks to the demon lying beneath him.  
    ~~~~  
    Castiel dressed himself manually rather than popping his clothes on and off with his power. It wasn’t that he was exhausted, though he felt the ache deep in his body. He simply wanted to take as much time as possible and he dragged the process out slowly.  
    As he stared at his reflection and fixed his tie around his throat, his attention was mostly on the dozing demon on the bed.  
    The motel room was almost destroyed from the past night. Since they didn’t actually need to rest, neither of them had bothered to give to pretence. He’d learned that pizza, though messy, was actually delicious though he doubted he could ever taste it again without thinking of the past night. Not that he’d eaten much of it. Most of it lay cold and in destroyed pizza boxes; the discarded food lay with the beer Meg had been set on drinking but never had.  
    Once his tie was fixed and his coat collar was straight, he knew there was no point in putting off what was inevitable.  
    Walking stealthily over to the bed, he sat down next to Meg and out of reflex he checked her for injury. The scars were still there but what caught his attention were the bruises where he’d gripped her tight, the rug burn left on her thighs from when they’d fallen off the bed, and bite marks decorating her breasts and stomach when he’d lost a bit of his control. He had his own fair share but he’d left them where they were, needing a reminder.  
    Reaching out, he brushed his palm over her exposed hip, intent on healing the damage he’d done.  
    Without opening her eyes, Meg caught his hand in hers and held him still. “Leave them.”  
    He wasn’t surprised that she’d been faking sleep. She didn’t actually need sleep anymore than he had. “They are rather… numerous.”  
    “I like the reminder. They can stay for a while.”  
    It was a sin to feel pride but he knew that the grin he gave her closed eyes was anything but innocent.  
    Meg let his hand go and shifted a bit on the bed to get comfortable. Castiel eyed the way she curled into the blankets and pillows, now absent of his warmth, and realized the temptation she really did pose for him. Not for sex but for comfort, something he’d rarely been able to take for himself. It was more than tempting to try to lie down and relax, to let her steadfast loyalty ease that loneliness he’d felt, even around the Winchesters. Dean always had Sam to balance him out, and Castiel knew that in the same way he could have Meg, though not in the same manner. There was nothing familial or platonic about his desire for her.   
    But just like Dean and Sam, the risk might destroy that comfort.  
    If they travelled together out in the open, Crowley would learn that they both had a weakness and that would end in tragedy. Either the Winchesters would find out or the King of Hell would, and Castiel wasn’t sure which would be worse. He owed Meg protection but for now all he could do was hope she would call him for once. Though, proud creature, he knew he’d have to always keep one eye out for her.  
    But to pretend this never existed? He couldn’t do that. Not when he’d sacrificed too much and not been able to have anything of his own for so long.  
    Castiel smoothed his hand over her back, toying with the dark strands that curled over her shoulders. At rest, demon and woman blended again and he almost thought her at peace.      
    “I’ll be in Portland, four days from now,” he murmured in her ear before dropping a kiss to her shoulder.    
    “See you there, feathers,” Meg murmured in her doze, fingers tight on the pillow case, and he smiled.  
    “Goodbye, Meg.”  
  



End file.
